Drowning at the bottom of the bottle

A veces duele demasiado la huida,

                                 pero duele más renunciar a respirar,

                                                            por quien se da cuenta de tu asfixia pero no te puede rescatar...

El color azul

How do you make something right when you’ve made it so wrong you can never go back. I always believed you had to keep moving forward? All my life that's all I've ever done, and what has it gotten me?

...

Have you ever stood in a room, all walls painted blue? It's funny. You always some middle aged ex hippie talk about how colourtherapy works, or you read a washed up article on Feng Shui. I for one, have never known the first thing of either colortherapy nor Feng Shui. Except for the fact that red seems to be always good because that's what they always use in Chinese restaurants. Out of my own experience, I've always felt that having white walls is soothing and calming. The other day a friend, who's just been on some kind of spiritual retriet asked me to stand in a room and look a the wall. He guaranteed it would make me relax. I stood in the middle of the room. Four walls and the ceiling painted blue. Light blue. Sky blue, she called it. After fifteen seconds the room turned to a box. After 30 seconds the box, turned into a cage. A cage with glass walls, sinking towards the bottom of the ocean. It started to feel kind of nice. After a few momentst, it felt like when you go away to the mountains. Away from everything. Only you and your thougts. After a while my chest started getting heavy. Like how you feel when you've been in a small closed room, with now windows for 24 hours. Low oxygen high. Then a sense of anxiety dawned on me. As if I could never get out and was doomed to live in that cage, at the bottom of the sea. Seeing life pass by, from a distance. Alone.

...

We saw eachother after a month, and for the first time in almost a year we were honest. Well, almost honest. We told eachother how we felt, We cried. It was beautiful. Karen was so convinced that we could make it work, I actually believed it myself. That's when I broke down. We had already talked about separating and I completley lost my shit. Why? It was my idea to separate. I couldnt help myself, and I broke down in tears. She knew I was sad about the whole thing. What she didnt know was I was sad because I believed we could fix it too. But I had taken things too far, and fucked up.
What was I going to say? "Baby, I cheated on you and by the way, NOW I think we can make it work." What do you say when you are act like such a fucking idiot. Something like that I guess. And for what...to hurt her and never see her again nonetheless. Shit, well if that's the case, at least if I kept my mouth shout she wouldn't be hurt and maybe I'd see her around sometime.


My dad always said, you cant judge the past from information from the present. It was just a Wednsday at a rundown bar. I was lonley, she was there...period. It was a one time thing that made me feel good. I felt alive, like I used to feel with Karen.
I have a tendency to attract trouble, to fuck things up and roll with them. Give me a bad idea and I'll think it's a great one. That's who I am.


It so sad that when you see someone how they really are...it just ruins the idea you had of them. But sometimes, I really wish she knew the real me. I wish she knew how I'm really broken I am inside. The reason I push people away when they're too close. It's because I'm terrified they'll see who I really am and run away. Why run away when I can push you away, am I right? Makes things easier, and I've definitley gotten good at it. But over time, it kind of leaves a hole in you...A sense of numbness...Like when your leg's asleep, only you feel it inside.


You’ll end up doing everything you can to fill that hole, with friends, and your career, and meaningless sex, but the hole doesn’t get filled. One day, you look around and you realize that everybody loves and admires you, but nobody really likes you. And that is the loneliest feeling in the world.


So how do you make something right when you’ve made it so wrong? I think you just don't. Wrong is wrong, and there is no changing that. You can simply deal with it, or keep walking foward.

What if...

Future mother of my problems.

It's been a while since we've crossed words. But if you must know, days aren't the same without you. There isn't a day my heart doesn't ache remembering your smell, your laugh or watching you draw. As time goes by, I find to my surprise that I still can't shake you out of my head. I thought there would be a point were time and distance would do their God forsaken job and wither your memory to a blur, but it hasn't. In fact, if I were to venture on a thought, I think I've grown fonder of the thought of you and hateful at the time and distance I've put between us. Self loathing is in order. Although I've become proud of how responsable we've become, doing what we have to do. We seem kind of old and grown up. But, I wonder, what if...what if  in the process of being old and responsable we just, kind of, get over eachother, not stopping to enjoy the little things, like being crazy about one another. 

Yours truley.