sand style

¿Sabés que es lo que más me gustó de tus besos? Su habilidad para darme tranquilidad, y al mismo tiempo, volverme loco.

¿Y de tus abrazos? Que sean largos, que estén llenos de carga emocional, que te animaste vos primero.

Solo te pido un beso más. Un abrazo más. Para vivir del recuerdo cuando ya no estés.

Walk alone, under the rain, with no umbrella. That’s kind of how I feel life is. All of a sudden, maybe you find someone walking at your same pace at your side. You can’t believe it. How did he or she get up to you? Why isn’t he or she faster? Or slower?
Maybe it’s all about moments. Pictures you can’t believe, unexpected gifts on particular days. But even then, you will realize at some point you are getting wetter than wanted, still, you walk. You can put your headphones on and try to listen some music to feel better.
Or you can start talking, start enjoying that shared moment with someone, wishing not to be unknown each other anymore.
It is possible to remain silent and smile. Anything you dream of is possible. Just dream it.
We can run. We can always give out of ourselves more than we think we are capable of. It’s a matter of wishes, of willing. Specially when you don’t want to lose the company. Strangers might let you stop feeling alone. But will it last?
Knowing you might disappear doesn’t make me stop remembering you, your scent, your body, your smile. Our immature laughs, our stupid pleasure of wanting each other so much. I can remember every moment we shared. I can live all of them again. And again. And I don’t feel tired of being with you. I like to think you are there. I like to imagine you.
I try not to think, but hell, I’m one of an analytical person. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel. Shut up and hug me. I shall still walk when it stops raining and the sun rises.

Lo que importa (historias solidarias: una murga para revalorizar la vida) »

Hoy es Lunes. Ayer fue domingo. Y fue un día rarísimo. Por varias razones. Pero entre alegrías y tristezas, elijo ver positivo una vez más y valorar más lo lindo que pude vivir.

Ayudar a alguien a crecer, abrazar fuerte. Y ser abrazado fuerte en el momento bajón, ese momento de cachetada inesperada. Di y recibí. Un poquito. Diría que a medida de como soy yo, pequeño.

Y es por cosas como las de esta nota, que me interesa más la alegría ajena que la personal. Hay momentos que no se borran.

“You can blow out a candle. But you can’t blow out a fire. Once the flames begin to catch. The wind will blow it higher.”

– Peter Gabriel (Biko song)

Pure bullshit

Have you ever been afraid to be loved? Running, escaping people? As if it would make you weak, vulnerable. Have you ever felt such a thing?

I wonder if the last person I was with really understood me and she knew all these. Maybe that’s why she went away. Because I’m obsessed, I can’t give anyone peace.

But I feel that you gave me peace. All of a sudden. And I’m in war with myself. I didn’t know how to handle it. I will survive, but alone.

It did feel good being alone until I met you.

“My name is Hazel. Augustus Waters was the great star-crossed love of of my life. Ours was an epic love story, and I won’t be able to get more than a sentence into it without disappearing into a puddle of tears. Gus knew. Gus knows. I will not tell you our love story, because like all real love stories, it will die with us. As it should. I’d hoped that he’d be eulogizing me, because there is no one I’d rather have. I can’t talk about our love story, so I will talk about math. I am not a mathematician, but I know this. There is an infinite between 0 and 1. There’s .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many days of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I’m likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You have me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.”

– Eulogy — from The Fault in Our Stars

“I long to ride a bike, dance, whistle, look at the world, feel young and know that I’m free.”

Anne Frank, December 24th 1943

Otto Frank

There’s this amazing photo of Otto Frank, Anne’s dad, taken by Arnold Newman. It’s printed huge and hung in the secret annex not far from where in was taken in the Anne Frank Huis. It’s extremely moving. Her dad did everything he could to try to protect his two girls, and still lost his whole family weeks before the liberation. The look on his face (hard to see in small reproductions) simply can’t be captured in words.

(via designvagrant)

Buenos Aires mía

Nunca lo quisiste entender. Que yo vendía ilusiones. Y te mejoré. Sin miedo a saber que no iba ser yo el que disfrute tu mejor vos.

Hoy me encuentro a mí mismo y me pregunto si estoy orgulloso de ser así. Supongo. Siento. Pienso y vivo. Falta poco. Llega el día de verte por última vez.

Creí que no iba a poder irme sin superarte y sin embargo el destino me golpeó de revés. Ahora sé que no voy a volver.

Vas a ser siempre importante, sobretodo con la luz que me diste de noche.

Espero, sin motivos, que cuando siga escribiendo de vos, no haya otra que piense que es para ella.

The One

From time to time, I happen to write. And yes, this rhymes.

I wanted to just hangout with you. I liked you but I wasn’t brave enough at that moment to say hello.

Time flies and I found myself loving you. Loving your freedom, your natural self. I can’t take that away from you. So I prefer to do nothing about it.

Not because I’m a coward (which I am) but because I respect you.

I hope your hugs will last forever. And I hope for you to find The One.