Postcard to Alice #90111

I have fixed things, perhaps one of the most important things. My Dad.

All of the things that went wrong with all of the boys in my life was a result of my anger for my Dad.

Now that has changed I feel relieved. Much better and hopeful.

Postcard to Alice #83011

I opened my stack of photos and I did and can only one love one boy. I can't lie.

Travel Guide

Our talks have become a travel guide.
Each sentence, words and phrases
has become a map to the best sites to see.
Some for recreation and
most are for discoveries.
You give tips to the best museums,
I give hints to scrumptious restaurants.
Then like any travel guide,
it's unreliable and hard to decipher.
We encounter unfamiliar places and routes.
We get lost and we desperately seek
our way back to the route written on the guide.
Our conversations are like travels
to a country called life.

Postcard to Alice #82911

Today I spent time with friends. It's time for me to get back and stop this solitary confinement. It's been written, said, done and cried about. I have expressed anger, madness and above all love (whatever that means).

I have thought about it, wished and wondered. I believe it is time for me to be back to where I was and not ostracize myself from the rest of the world. We talked about life, him and me.

How things are and will be. I have no conclusions laid ahead of me. I have no written endings and I have no unfortunate expectations.

I am here, just here waiting for the sun to rise and to set at the same time. Waiting for my favorite song to be played on the radio. I just want to stay still and just watch as the world pass me by. To not wait and just be contented with the sight I see, because it is clear and subtle.

Postcard to Alice #82511

I want to write nice things to you Alice, however this place I'm in its just full of miserable and unkind things. I'm trying to fight with all my might but it seems I'm losing.

I want to tell you how wonderful the day was, but I don't know what the day is like anymore. I'm trapped here at night, I keep working at night with nothing to look forward to. I hardly see the sun and I hardly see the people that matters to me.

I keep asking God, what have I done to have deserved such unlucky streak of events? For years I try to look forward to things and to the future, but here I am broken.

Alice, how I want to hold those moments. When will they come again?

Postcard to Alice #82411

Today as I was browsing through Tumblr I discovered a poet. A poet that wrote what I was feeling. It was a connection I needed. I felt so connected that I kept reading his poems. It felt like a revelation. His words were something I've known but yet to be accepted. I am drawn to him.

Fernando Pessosa, Portugal's most celebrated Poet has reached me in a way. He isn't like Transtromer and he isn't like any of those Poets I have read.

I do hope I get to buy his books. Oh, please please.

Postcard to Alice #82311

I have come to accept things lately. Slow yet painful. Things that I wished weren't true. I have regained consciousness but I haven't been completely revived.

I have found such awakening with the use of the word "was." How awfully revealing such word exist. Today my head is filled with these words "I was falling in love," from an 80's song.

Was, I was falling in love. How thoughts have passed by and time. It slowly drifts, I'm waiting for time to drift me away. I use to rush, but today however I'm letting things pass as they should be.

Yes, I feel I was falling in love. "Was" - past tense.

Today I do not know what I feel. Today I'll let the unknown drive me to my destination.

I have decided not to ask questions and accept things - slowly and painfully.