Giving up.

I give up with this blog. I've been trying so hard for a long time to make someone, anyone check it out but everything I've done hasn't been enough. It seems that when I changed it, trying to make it brighter in every possible way -cause I needed to move on with my life- everything got worse. Every fucking time I try to do something right, it just goes to waste.

I don't know what's the problem, even if I honestly believe it's mine.

Do you really hate me, huh?

For so long, everytime I update this blog I feel like the most pathetic person all around the world, and for this next 2012, I don't want to keep feeling like that. I need people to respect me, because there's not a fucking person that has ever done it.

You can't imagine how hard it is.

I was gonna change it in a while to make it not just for my thoughts and stuff like that, I was going to put things related with music, books and films, I was even going to make them in Spanish and English so everybody could understand. But I don't think it is worth it. No one fucking cares about me, no one has and no one will ever do.

I guess I'm meant to failure.

I'm sorry if there has been some ghost visitor who has read everything in here -which I honestly don't think so-, but it hasn't been enough, as I'm not enough.

When I changed the url to the blog, it wasn't because I was just looking for a new one, it was because I meant it. Now you've verified it. Thank you?

I... I can't.

The Scientist

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry.

You don't know how lovely you are.

I had to find you,

tell you I need you, tell you I set you apart.

Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions.

Oh, let's go back to the start.

Running in in circles, coming up tails.

Heads on a science apart.

Nobody said it was easy.

It's such a shame for us to part.

Nobody said it was easy.

No one ever said it would be this hard.

Oh, take me back to the start.

I was just guessing at numbers and figures,

pulling your puzzles apart.

Questions of science, science and progress.

Do not speak as loud as my heart.

Tell me you love me.

Come back and haunt me.

Oh, and I rush to the start.

Running in circles, chasing our tails,

coming back as we are.

Nobody said it was easy.

Oh, it's such a shame for us to part.

Nobody said it was easy.

No one ever said it would be so hard.

I'm going back to the start.

Daydreaming.

Sometimes I feel that what keeps me alive is daydreaming (and writing as much time as I can).
I spend all the time imagining things that would be awesome if they'd happen, or just things that could make me feel better for a while. It's like the only way I can keep having hope of my future. Hoping that one day, the sun will shine for me. One day when my life will be just easy. Even if it's just for one single day.
My wounds will be healed, I'll be in peace with myself.
I need that, like my lungs need air, like my heart needs its beating and my veins need the blood.

When everybody sleeps, I'm still awake just to be able to keep dreaming with silly things that keep me... the way I am -stupid, fool but realistic in an almost pessimistic way-, or make me feel fine whilst the dream remains in my mind.
Because when I fall asleep, horrible nightmares spend the night chasing me. Every damn night.

That's why I don't sleep a lot of nights, to have that something that keeps me alive.

Even if it's just for a little while.

December.

And there goes another month moving us apart.

I'll never forget you.

Plató.

"Segons Plató, l'ànima, abans d'encarnar-se en un cos, ha preexistit en el món de les Idees, on les ha contemplades, ja que l'activitat pròpia de l'ànima és la contemplació de les idees. Quan entra en el món sensible i s'encarna en un cos l'ànima oblida les Idees, i tan sols en queda una empremta borrosa, confusa i oblidada. Així, doncs, d'acord amb la teoria de la reminiscència, aprendre o conéixer no és sinó recordar. L'experciència sensible, en tant que les coses visibles són una còpia de les Idees, és llavors una ocasió per a "recordar" les Idees, que han estat, borrosament gravades, a l'anima.