lucky number (twenty) seven

today is my birthday. this is the year of opportunities, bravery and one or two psychological disorders. the year of unwritten stories, growing wisdown, and foolish thinking (or drinking?). the year of infatuation, love and hard decisions, the year of determination, doubt and foreign publications. the year of the muse, the book and of a rising star in the making. the year of New York, Paris and London, the year of experience, [i]free-living[/i], and destination: on the road. the year i walk alone, some strangers tag along, familiar faces i've known. and this is the year of magic, pride and unforeseen bitterness. the year of adventures, success and dressing the part. that of dusk and dawn and anything in between. a year of fashion, fatal heels and fake smiles. the camera flashes, the curtain falls, i am dancing my dreams to life.

another day, another shot.

departed

I walk around for hours, my head's too heavy to carry, I keep counting the bricks on the road as I go along, keep balancing on a vertical line, following the path will guide me to sanity and back again.I see the same trees, bushes and dull houses, some tiresome folk to match, as I pass along in silence. This is not the time to doubt, the small things that are keeping me up at night will soon be forgotten instead of surpressed, as these stories of little importance and the people starring in them always become more futile after some time has past, preferrably in other surroundings. The rain has stopped falling as I was descending at similar speed. I look at my shadow covering the dirty pavement, a proof of existence, I am still here. I pass by a window and swiftly check my sideprofile, my body looks thinner than normal and I feel pleased for a minute. That feeling gets replaced with disgust fast when I look up and meet my face, I seem to have lost my clean (innocent) expression, instead I look at the dark circles under my eyes, greyish skin, the black gazing eyes look right into my gut and it frightens me. I shake it off, pretend I look good and walk, drift, ahead. I know there's only one thing left for me to do.
Leave.

I want to go soon, others may define that as 'running' away, but I am pretty sure I would walk, as running is too tiring, a heat of the moment sorta thing, something someone does when they are not really determined, which is in contrast with how I will go. I wouldn't take much stuff, just my cameras, a few pair of black jeans (do I even own other colors?) a couple of shirts, my mac book and a couple of other (bad) things to fill in the waiting 'gaps' I would be sure to encounter. I am heading to another town, another city, another country with other lives to hear about and finally a few new faces to look at. I could work as a photographer for the local papers and magazines, earn some money to buy rounds of drinks at night, polaroid film during the day, scouring the streets for hours on end looking for the next muse.

A flashback to the past I left behind, where I know the people are waiting for my return, I close my eyes and I inhale the smoke, no one would miss me if they could see my bad self living it and kicking it now. You don't understand, no one really does, just keep breathing out and in, day in day out, the same ways the same days. Without really thinking they - read: you - do what others want (no, expect) them to do, slowly turning into robotic, mechanical things who talk, Wall-E probably has more brain capacity than the average person. Fit in, smile every day and tuck in your shirts. Don't stray, don't do, don't think and don't cross the street diagonally. I need a break, or to break out, I've always managed to keep a tight lit on boredom as well as common ways. Looking out for new ways to spend my days, rare people to chat about the unfamiliar, unusual and strange things as we go along. I've learned in a short time that I am bound by my own actions, that I have absolutely no control about the future, always hitting me in the face with random difficulties,... but I am okay with that. I am not fucking afraid anymore. Whatever happens will happen when it does, so bring it on, I (think) I can take it.
In the meanwhile you can find me in your past, waiting on that corner in the middle of the night, I won't be there anymore, I have departed.

Keep a light on those you love
They will be there when you die
there's no need to fear
there's no need to cry

Every little piece in your life will add up to one
Every little piece in your life will mean something to someone

mad

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing" - Jack Kerouac

control the rain

take control over my life,
and open my sleeping eyes,
awake and asleep, the same image reappears
keeping this inside
it grows into something vile
it eats away and it consumes
lost my reason, hope will go to

racing thoughts
i want to hide
would you be so kind to see
i'm at your side
you changed me, you don't mind
you sit there silent, i smile

rain keeps falling, i feel like i am too
stranger to my frustration
why not reach for my hand?
we share the silence, and an umbrella,
i walk away, to no mans land

"People like you find it easy,
Naked to see,
Walking on air.
Hunting by the rivers,
Through the streets,
Every corner abandoned too soon,
Set down with due care.
Don't walk away, in silence,
Don't walk away. "

open the door

time is moving forward
here I am frozen
this is where I stand,
people pass me by
unable to see me
they lock their doors
and live their lives
i am growing and aging
where can i hide?
the time when i was young
closing my eyes
i run towards everyone
now what am i running from?

these days

this is the start of it all
like the dawn you live in a dream
we can not breathe without
so close then, now that moment is gone
i take this burden when i am alone,
so safe and lost
i feel the hope is gone

a time of waste
wash away this bitter taste
now i have come to terms
the morning can not come

no sense of loss
you go on in your chamber
the walls are imposing
i wish you did the same
i am going further away
we don't touch like we used to
the same space at the same pace

i suffer this loss and live like there's joy,
where have we lost
i wish you could feel the same
a sense of reality
i always look at you
the sadness that you are absent

a time of waste
wash away this bitter taste
now i have come to terms
the morning comes


I've been looking so long at these pictures of you
That I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures are
All I can feel - the cure