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When I look Into your eyes I can see a love restrained

is more than just a whim, rather than simply remember is that my heart is mad because he does not know where to find that very special glow of your eyes. I guess it's just a feeling inside me, something I'm not able to understand, is that a small distance, the feeling we missed, if only for a few days ago that loneliness lurks as when the most horrible depression haunted me.
I feel that I can not say goodbye, I have fear that there always have you stop in front of me, make me forget. An irrational fear, an old trauma that I can not erase, is that I miss when the passage of time is the tightrope that I walk.
And I only think that you've never failed me, you do not have to do it now. I keep thinking that nothing more than a few days, I'll have to endure months, as he did once, and then yes I can not feel anything more than the fear of losing, again, more important than ever I've had. No, not this time, please. Tell me I will fight together, that I have you here, you will not make me feel that this distance is not just physical, it is also sentimental.
paranoid, I guess I'm more than that. I think that, because once the miles I have played a trick, they will increasingly have to bear the slightest "Goodbye." And I look with despair, and try not to read your words with pessimism every time I sound a bit cooler than usual.
No, I think nobody can understand when I say I want, I do not mean to say. If I say I'm really in love, do not say because I want to pretend that I live on a novel by princesses. Nobody, absolutely nobody understands why I feel so little, so helpless, and why, what kills me the most inside, is thinking even I have to get away from someone, even for a few weeks. I never play with these feelings, and do not exaggerate if I miss a tear at the thought that someday, I will to face a final goodbye.
And these are not just words, they are going to fart, like all other thoughts that are around now, one night, while I hear a voice singing November Rain torn like months ago, when she cried uncontrollably knowing that nothing lasts forever, that hearts can change, and it is extremely difficult to keep a candle burning under the rain odious "November."

Everybody Needs Somebody, Everybody Needs Someone

.

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Sometimes.

Sorry, I left the blog unattended for a few days. I promise to keep updating and retrieving the pace right away:)
For now, I leave you with a Draft of a few weeks ago still had not gone ...

suppose there are times when we can touch the sky, being able to hug him, to steal a kiss. But we all know that being dragged underground, that the time tearing your soul, it is much easier. There are times when tears do not know where to slide, there are times that I am bipolar, I'm dying to sleep under your eyes, yet, afraid I have to, because if you go, I'll never sleep peacefully.


there when I feel that my life turned on by a thread, others are rising wingless for the simple thrill to feel the touch of your skin. Sometimes, my life, I feel that anything that can feel real that I complicate the gestures, and show you you're my world does not work with simple kisses. And I apologize for not being able to give you more than my time. Therefore, I propose to close our eyes and pretend that we are not material, we are not bodies. Do not lock ourselves behind the skin. Let's be simple hearts ejecting feeling that hearts are touched without touching or words. Hearts that know how to be more open about his attraction which opposite poles of a magnet that our souls are subjected.

Sometimes I see my tracks soon too intertwined with yours, there when I want to get rid of my being and be just wind to touch and caress my hands do not know, to pass between your lips and mingle with your breath. Sometimes, my life, I fear for the reasons, one that keeps me sane in spite of everything, and also the reason why I wake up every day, that is why I smile. Sometimes, my life, I fear for you. Because everything is so limited that I can give you, with all my heart I want to offer ...

Sometimes

my life ... Sometimes you have to strip off the skin, and leave the soul caress our "I love you" as only the soul knows how to play what is not tangible.

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And that is the girl who descends into a drop of rain that tells you this ... Words

rest on the night stand years ago that nobody looks at a stack of books with stories of princesses who know from birth that their mutual love going to look for, stories about children who fly with Peter Pan without wings, sad girls, his face streaked with tears, just realizing that life is the greatest thing that could happen.


The world is tired of hearing stories so surreal, that no tears wet the last page, one in which it says "The End". People cover their ears when someone has found love, someone to love, he feels anger and helplessness against the feelings, and envy that are from other good news. Most people live full of memories that only call when they want, in principle, long for times when things were going well, but in reality do nothing but hurt themselves.

is difficult, unfortunately, difficult to sort through our deep hearts and find what so wake up and think it's worth wasting the time of day. Surviving is not living, and people can not see the difference. Them loses his way, and do not know how to handle the pole. We always have concerns that there is something in our being vacant, and fill the small fragment that remains in the soul is that, the living life as it gives us, but we only enlarge as we try to make it disappear. With how easy it is to lie down on a lawn of freshly cut grass, admiring the sky now seems to have been painted by a child who did not want to think about how to combine, to reflect the reason for laughter, and baring your soul, let go of body, which only serves to condition our demonstrations of affection.

And I'm not best placed to tell you this, but you have to whisper to the sky are going to get you under her nightgown, you will steal their purity and their desire to always be there, holding the sun the stars, moon and blue so clean that you can not have envy for your eyes .

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overflow. Hypochondria

made tangible our whispers that get tangled in my hair, pushed by the light spring wind. Go through the whole city, singing melodies that sang two cracked hearts. The chase with the look, I do not see them go, and I caught everything I wanted for today, I have no coins left the source of desires, and vices are cheap, I have no more addictive than melt in your eyes. And that if it were in your eyes, I would not mind falling in a shipwreck. Never I will ask you to accompany me to him, from time to time send me a sip of your love I have enough to keep waking up every day, and I get to have plenty of strength to keep looking for you. Gradually feel closer to me back to life, gives me strength to withstand any downturn, and to remove the blindfold from my eyes and face to face with the truth, this time, is not as painful as they say sayings.

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.

all right,

but still there

my

hopeless dismay.

And perhaps the problem is I have a rope too fragile to walk on. Or am I who has made up his mind to bear no weight. I let the consequences take over my mind, that left me feeling binding promises and too many people know he does not put on a brave face, and sometimes, even the sun. Feeling invisible is so routine and a sense that when you go, I have fear of not knowing how to adapt to someone really wants to help without wanting anything in return. The color of my days are dark, but my fault that I do is lock myself in my fear. I have fear that I break the hopes that I tear out the feelings, that dreams are unattainable. I have afraid to cry, because you may not be right, and I have fear of the whispers, then no one will hear my views.



do not know how to ask the sense of insecurity which is going to get rid of the apprehension. Learning not to continue life as if it were a puzzle to be solved, if not let little by little, the course takes me to the goal. After all, is supposed to always get the same place, the later the better.


Sometimes you have to pause and reflect, perhaps the point of view that still is not the proper perspective. Mine not it is. But I do not know how to get rid of much uneasiness therefore not worth the effort and begin to bask in what happened to me is bequeathing.

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Prize: 3

My dear Lucia has given me an award again, thank you sky! The truth is that I can not believe that a stranger might like the way I express myself, my blog, a piece of me. I really thank you very much, do not know the illusion that makes me:)

These are the rules:

1. Exposing the seal of the blog.

2. Say 8 things about you:

1. Hate it with all my strength I call beautiful. Well, more than pretty face, they tell me I have good physique. Some people have it refuses to do just that, so your friend @ s saying "it goes, but if you're cool." I truly hate being told things like that, I feel that they laugh at me ...

2. I just left what I think was the worst depression of my life (and that I need, seeing the melancholy that I am ...). As not all for love. But what damaged love, love can cure, and rupture has made my life has found a new direction, new eyes for which melt.

3. I can only speak about music in total comfort with my father, is the only one who understood me 100%. @ S friend I have also heard the same music as me, but there will always be rare in which we disagree ... Less with my father.

4. I always read the last sentence of the book. I do not know what I do, but it is a tracidión: never mind the last sentence of the book nothing relevant ...

5. Poetry was small, many, many poetry. But I have two years without writing anything, although I would try again.

6. I'm loving the small gestures are what builds life. The smallest sniff, look, a joke, change your life dramatically. Is proven.
7. I love that people have with me silly details, like writing a note in the middle class, a smile in a comment tuenti, a missed call to say goodnight ...
8. Lately I'm more than usual with my efforts to be a writer, but I was blocked without carrying or five pages.

3. Pass it on to 8 blogs you've discovered and like you
http://buscandotelascosquillas.blogspot.com/2011/03/sangre-en-mis-venas.html
http://vivelelhoyyaprendedelayer.blogspot.com/2011/03/buscando.html
http://perfectaporfuera.blogspot.com/2011/03/cuando-era-una-nina.html
http://alltherumors-aretrue.blogspot.com/2011/03/ni-calma-ni-miedo-ni-lagrimas-que-el.html
http://anisensations.blogspot.com/2011/02/inseguridades.html
http://ambaringles.blogspot.com/2011/03/ti-amigo.html
http://perfectlalalie.blogspot.com/2011/03/eres.html
http://abouttanya.blogspot.com/2011/03/mis-seguidores.html

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It's time.

long since the world seems to have stopped, the rain ever louder against the glass, spilling their candy drops for lovers of the tears of a broken soul that haunts in solitude. Vale


collecting bottles and tears, and to drink it without further order time to let it go. Leaving aside the unattainable love, impossible dreams, the hopes and friendships off suddenly eaten into oblivion. Destiny is not written. It is time to remove the bandage from the eyes, look out the reality: It may be a face-scaffold to face with truths of the past with those feelings that you thought were ghosts, those who have disappeared only because the memories are just missing one day, but always keep your subconscious. Nobody said life would be easy, nobody said you were going to have to hold on to the lighthouse, so do not expect no obstacles.

Maybe your soul is corrupted so much evidence against: But it's time to be brave, to stop hiding behind masks. It is time to break that damn wall that isolates you from reality .

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Here comes the sun.

And we all woke up once in a gray day, one of those days where the tears run down your cheeks flushed, mixed with saliva on your lips quivering, and you do not understand what your soul has darkened why let the tears escape.
are days when you stay anchored, just because you can not even fight.


But that's when fate takes a truce with the present. The second is moving the minute hand with its slow rhythm, and time, almost imperceptibly. But time does not stop just because you feel that everything has stopped in a dark sky day y niebla en el horizonte.
Y no necesitas más que unos pocos días y algunas más noches para pulir de nuevo las ganas de vivir. Sube a las nubes, sólo trata de dar el salto, mira alrededor, quizá alguien te este esperando.
Y es que todos despertamos alguna vez en un día gris. Pero créeme, que encontrando la mirada adecuada, aquella que te derrite el corazón en un segundo, que hace que tu sonrisa se vuelva loca y se esboce sin quererlo, es mucho más fácil aprender a bailar bajo toda esa lluvia.

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Renacer. Dear lonely

A look.

A smile.


He held out his hand.


A hug.
A sigh.


And my heart is free from frost, again beating.

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say love to hate is just one step. I think this is because both feelings are so strong that the line to pass this next. However, your memories jump that line constantly. Could shout at them again to lock, but do not care, if I have the strength anymore.



For you overcame cowardice, for you tried to be strong. And you were you who threw in the towel, my desire to fight collapsing, burying them so deep in my heart that I do not know as search again. Because I'm trying, I'm trying to be happy again , tired, broken heart, but gathering courage to stand again. But you're always there, pulling me back to clay, and I do not know what to do to forget.


But just because I do not want to put more obstacles in the way, even if you do not want. I'll take that stupid trunk with all our history , and I will leave there in the past, where you never have to move. Lock the lock with his own key, nothing back out to haunt me. Focus on the present, look to the future.

you know? I hate challenges. But be happy again is one that from the beginning should have tried to achieve.

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End:

Maybe someone can hear you, but there is nobody left with time to talk. Something hurts inside you, right? is loneliness, which corrupts you.

Thousands of times you've been Interceptor problem, but when it happens to not the same, the advice you gave is a mass of empty words, because no one can ease this torment.


Look the horizon, that memory was ever present. It hurts to run into laughter that was once happy, but now you crave bitter past. You could try to return to yesterday, but you know that even backwards, you'll be late to your destination.


You do not want to do that is something unresolved or that your agony will not go away ever. It's just knowing that all that time steals, injures and tracks that you always marked, even though one day you feel invisible. Wait and see how tired your soul reacts to these injuries, it may be able to sew on his mantle, assimilate and conceal the heart, not to tear the feelings, to be endurable pain. Or perhaps those wounds destroy your life, which consume forgotten candle, and let all your interior in small portions of anything.


Someday, come another reason to live, and go your ways in parallel, but not remixed anymore. That does not suit you because you love that still burns the insides do not hesitate to flare up again. And now you have to do is let your heart starts to feel from scratch. Right now, I think it pulls the soul with an icy grip of helplessness, but we must face the sad reality, you can not always hide behind a curtain of fog, because however much damage you life, find warmth in dark thoughts will only corrupt you to a point where you will not be able to feel anything you would not be more than a lost soul who comforts of nostalgia.


But back now tonight, where even the timid stars want to free your loneliness. Think about it, in the past, that past in the present you wanted a different, perhaps without many scars, no late-night conversations with the devastation.


And the silence surrounds you, inviting you to mourn. Try to stay away from that, so they promised you'd try to hold on to deal with it all without crying. More tempted to let your feelings drifting is too easy, and no witnesses will blame you what happened tonight, which is reflected in your eyes so dark the night sky as your hopes seem to be.


I do not know, mate. Maybe you should start remembering what it was like to live, they say that is something you do not forget, for a long time to mourn your heart to stay. Maybe you should try life without him.


Someday you looked all this and smile, thinking that at last you got it. For now, dry those tears from his eyes daring, and try to smile, albeit with regret.


So, if everything I've written this, my dear, lonely soul, are the latest news of your heart, here I am, an inveterate insomniac who does not know where to turn . Maybe someone can hear me, but it is not anyone with time to talk. Something hurt inside me, I think it's the loneliness that corrupted me ...

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Waiting for the dawn. Gradually

And I'm tired of always being me.

This midnight when no one sees me, I will return to the past, and I'm going to kidnap those summer nights, cloudless sky. I'll get up early for once, to see the sunrise, isolated from the world, and a melancholy smile for no reason. Let the sun soak my face, while a timid blue bathing in the morning. I'll close my eyes and dream that I am free, I have no concerns that I have not even my heart strings. Forget for a moment, of who I am and start my life from scratch, as if it never existed, as if you only knew this, and that full feeling that occupies my mind with a sweet lie.

This midnight when no one sees me, I smile as I've ever done. And most importantly, what will I do without help .

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.

It seems that today, a small scar is closed. Acceptance is gaining ground, but it's just a battle. Who knows if someday I'll finish this war feelings, which are allied with those precious memories, and intend to bomb my soul, perhaps hoping to fill my life with a melancholy which I can not cope.

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was worth.

And once again, memories.

I want to try, make me strong, to prove to myself that I can deal with all this. review photos, my journal, and my mind gives me images, moments, all that happened. My heart shrinks, tightens, informs me that the pain is coming, is taking over me. But want to try, make me strong, to prove to myself that I can deal with all this ...

Stupid pride.


And I say ... That I'm sad, I'm sad that I do nothing to mourn. Should move on, face life, perhaps even fall in love again.

You have no idea.

With every tear that wets my eyes with every sob that blocks my mouth, each wound I'm open, metaphorical veins who cuts my dismay. All in all, I am demonstrating that I really loved. Maybe I fell too, maybe I did something I've always hated: illusions. Maybe, maybe, maybe ...
But I already knew how it would end all this. Because in the past, I was leaving messages for this present, I was writing me consolation. And they all tell me how happy he was to be, although there were people telling me not worth by this self-destruction. I hate to say, but he was right.
Because I checked the memories, but this time, further. I have limited myself to mourn for them, this time, still bleary-eyed, I followed them, and I realized that I was suffering always. Always. Every moment of happiness, has a bone destruction. But I did not care. Because worthwhile. Because it's worth.

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Critics

MAYBE
...

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FEBRUARY 2011 FESTIVAL OF LOVE - THEATRE CO
Av Corrientes 1543 Buenos Aires

Saturday February 19, 2011, at 2030 hours

Maybe ...

A blind, desperate

a meeting and a tour
absurd to try to argue that the other is
who want it to be.


With Paul Cerri and Paul Sun Pavéz
Calmet
Costume Set Mariana
Ron Lighting Design Original Music Christian Alejandro Gadea
Kauderer

Press Caro Alfonso Santiago Fraccarolli
Graphic Design Assistance Jonathan Esquivel
Management Production Support
Vicky Lagos Executive Producer Paul Silva
Dramaturgy and Direction Sol Pavéz

Saturday February 19 theater Cooperation 2030hs hs Av Corrientes 1543 Buenos Aires
info@silva.com.ar contact / web http:/ / www.silva.com.ar