Don’t want live another day

A star is born

I’m not good at keeping track with the fuzz in life. I arrive to things when the time is right for me. I’ve been late lately, and I don’t mind anymore. Time-space has shifted a long time for my own sake. I can’t help it. But I’m here-there. Aware.

It’s not that I don’t keep track of what’s happening. It’s just that I don’t trust the marketing. The attention that I have to pay to what they, somebody, says I have to pay attention to. And it’s you, too. The way the masses respond to those estimulus. The way I do. When I can’t resist.

I’m there too.

In the worldcup watching.

In the latest conflict.

In the breaking news.

It’s still war time.

It’s another one.

It’s a market crash.

Yet again, austerity.

Not possible.

Who’s to blame.

Blame it on the government.

Blame it on the conspiracy.

Blame it on the idocy.

Blame it on me.

You will too.

If get the chance.

I’ll be the one.

I’ll be in the hot seat.

And the hot chair will burn me away.

Lite the devils in thy self.

Like a rocking star burning itself to appear stable in a black hole.

That magnitude.

This insignificance.

This layer of peripheral view.

This other game.

From another dimention.

Don’t wanna talk about galaxies.

As I’m already in the one I care.

As I’m already trying to make a difference.

As I’m already making a stand.

A stupid one.

Yet, my own.

To gather a NEW us.


A NEW idea.

A NEW concept.

A NEW resilience.

A NEW social contract.

A NEW beginning.

Bradly Cooper movie.

He wrote a song.

He wrote a love song.

And made it a movie.

About who he was.

In that character.

A rising/falling star.

A discovery.

The top.

The fall.

The vice.

Falling in the dream.

And not finding the balance.

Still up there.

A white man’s fall.

A success tragedy.

A tender awekening.

A white man’s problem.

Rich and famous.

Still doomed.

Still awake.

Still here.

Still trying to get back.

Still fucking up.

Still failing.

Still getting there.

Still not dead.

Still another star rising.

Still love.

Still understanding.

Still a kiss.

Still a look.

Watery eyes.

Look up.

At you.

Tears on your cheeks.

She performs the song.

Closing the loop.

Singing at him.

Singing at you.

There’s only hope.

And cry for help.

To let you know I’m here.

I’m not giving up.

I’ll go back to you.

With the words I’ve spilled out.

And the piano.

And the voice.

And the final kiss.

Yes, it’s here.

Yes, it’s me.

I’m still here.

Your lips and mine are hugging.

And time has frozen once again.

I’ll fall again.

And I’ll pull right back.

As this is the pendulum.

This is the drill.

I’ve promised not to fall.

Yet I’ve broken every promise.

Except for giving up on you.

I’ll be here to sing this song.

And to rather not love again.

To loose it all.

To grow out.

To not give in.

To not push you away.

I’ll understand if you don’t show.

It’s not you.

It’s me.

I’m not helpless, just lost.

And I’ll find it in your eyes.

The glory and story of our utopia.

It’s start back up.

With a work around the memories that we’ve built in this, our story.

The legacy of that thing still there.

The reminder of the glory.

I’ve been to heaven.

Just once again.

Just this feeling of eternity.

That reasuring melting on you.

And all the glorious souls.

It’s a great time to be alive.

To have you here within my head.

Still your lips have signal the attraction.

You are coming in in waves.

And I seem to have lost senses.

Yet I don’t need anything else.

As it’s already here: the magic.

The sense of completeness.

The love within the harmony.

The destiny of our transmutation.

The coincidence of awe.

The symbols in the stars.

The ever present voices from the ancient souls.

The melodies of angels.

The wispers from each breath.

As get closer to your peak.

As we’ve become one an only holy in this double helix.

The reason to assist.

To flow in every direction.

To pace your beat.

And listen to the rythm of you pulsations.

To grasp your delight.

In this love of ours.

So present in the NEW convenant.

Just you and me.

No other stranger’s name.

No other lips.

Well, those.

The swelling sweet.

The breaking beat.

The great schasm.

The glorious spasm.

The stocatto clap.

Erupting juices.

You soul and mine.

In gentle cry.

Abrassive nature.

We’ve bonded through.

A NEW beginning.




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