11:27 PM

Hoy,

en esta noche solitaria

solo me acompañan las estrellas artificiales.

Gracias satélites, por ser tan fieles.

Hoy mi musa se ausentó,

me pregunto a quién estará consolando...

Querida Luna, tan lejana y tan comprensiva

escuchas mis lamentos, sin juzgar ni opinar;

me pregunto si a veces se siente sola.

Oh Luna, tu ausencia me derrumba.

Esta noche nada es real.

Esta noche las luces no brillan con fervor.

Las calles permanecen vacías,

es como si intentasen reflejar mi interior.

El silencio me consume, me ensordece.

Esta noche no siento, esta noche es insípida.

Esta noche pasa, pero parece nunca acabar.

Con pupilas dilatadas y camas desordenadas;

el vacío se manifesta en una flama,

quema sin piedad

y se consuma por la mañana.

Esta noche nada está en su lugar.

(septiembre 2018)

I lied.

I'm sorry, about the jejune manner in which I deliver these news to thee.

But, it's true. I lied.

Remember that "catatonic and raw" post I wrote not too long ago? Perhaps you don't, so, to make this apology mean anything at all, go check it out. I'll wait.

I'm assuming that you've chosen to dig up the latter post before continuing to read this one, but then again, assumptions are often faulty, and can lead you down quite the slippery slopes, don't they? Regardless of whether you turned out to be a little rebel, or a team player, I'll resume my apology.

The man of my dreams is completely made up. Well, not really, he's not entirely fictitious, but I embellished both his vague, yet oddly specific, description, (really? 25-35 years old? since when are you the great master at age guessing??), and the frequency in which I see him. 

To be completely transparent with you, he does live in my dreams, but it is more often during waking hours, that these scenarios develop with such ease. I figured adding an age range to this chimerical (yet hopefully prophetic) prospect, would please those who decide to peruse my thoughts and might have an inclination towards me, romantically. I now realize how absurd that sounds, and although I don't apologize for the words I wrote, I apologize for delivering them in such a seemingly authentic way. My dreams vary far too much to perfectly pinpoint this subject, but I am still hopeful that the dialogues that have been had with my sleeping self, are somehow aiming me closer to his physical self. No matter the mold he's shaped from, nor the rounds around the sun he's done, purely energetic pull and true cosmic connection.

Sure, I might've hit you with a title that raised your expectations radically towards me coming out as a blatant liar, but, despite the somewhat white (aiming more toward grey, truly) lie that I redacted in such a heartfelt way, my integrity wouldn't allow me to stand by and pretend like I can convince myself of what "happened" in my dreams. Well, the impending doom that by not being fully sincere might be hindering my opportunity to receive all that is good in the world, or hey, bad karma coming my way, might also have played a big role in pushing me to "come clean"... 

Thanks for reading, hope your week goes on smoothly, happy Monday. (what even is time, huh?)