Twisted silly game.

Come to think of it
It’s nothing more than a twisted silly game.
Come to think of it
I don’t know what to say,
now I know what I’m doing
I’m trying looking for you in someone else’s hands.
And it’s unpredictable the way the brain works,
traveling to places it can never really go back to,
without purpose, without thinking
it suppose to be rational.

Come to think of it
I don’t know what to say.
Come to think of it
this may be the way.

And it comes out of nowhere
I need to gather all my thoughts
I need to get a hold on myself
I’m feeling you so close
but you are miles and miles away.

It’s a twisted silly game.
It’s a twisted silly game.
You are just too complicated
to find you with all your imperfections
but I still have your touch wrapped in my skin
your touch wrapped in my skin

I have to let you go.

Fool me.

Say it,
tell me there’s more than eyes can see.
Fool me,
show me innocence still exist.
Drop your masks just for me,
or at least let me believe it is just for me.
Come to me,
let me see there’s more than a simple touch,
make me feel it, help me own it.
Tell me life is better together,
or at least let me believe it is.
I am empty, I am cold, I am lifeless.
I don’t recognize myself anymore.
So fool me,
because if I feel this fine
I don’t mind being fooled for the rest of my life.


Sleep does not come to me and I begin to question myself many things, I do not feel part of something again, I feel isolated again, I come back to feel that my presence is not required or even desired. I see your eyes in my head again, I question again the way you act with me, the way you look at me, actually the way you don’t look at me anymore.

I don’t want this feeling, I don’t want to keep thinking about you and wanting to have you after I see you, I don’t want to have you in my head most of the time, I don’t want to stop being who I am with you.

Today you both talked, I know there are things that you both know well and I can not contribute anything, but it was as if I wasn’t there. Although later when you said you would talk or call one of the two of us to meet us again I thought all the time you would talk to her, and you talked to me. Still, there are things that I shouldn’t even think about yet I do.

I need some signal, I need to know, I‘ve had these insecurities before and this is far from over. I’ll leave, you all will forget me. You will forget me. And I’ll get used not seeing you, not knowing about you and I won’t miss you anymore.


I give the first signs of life. It takes me a couple of seconds to recognize where I am and why I am here. The first symptom that ends up bringing me to reality is the stomachache, followed of course by the headache when I get out of bed. It feels fatal! I had never had a hangover. I walk to the bathroom very slowly given the feeling that I will vomit again at any time, I think last night I did not throw away everything I should, it is quite annoying, I surely spent a lot of time trying to stop it even knowing full well that it was the best thing to do. Memory causes me sickness. The mirror shows me two gray circles instead of eyes, messy hair and my skin made a mess. I do not try to see the effect that water will have on it. I wear a big black sweatshirt, the sleeves cover me to the fingers, I love that type of clothes. I remember seeing this image in other women several times when I was younger, black pants, big black sweatshirt from some metal band or something related to tattoos or cars, and Converse sneakers. I like that style, I like how it looks, it’s just that I do not like my image of a drunk wasted woman – in a funny sense-. I go back to bed and my friend wakes up, she asks if I want some eggs and she gets up to put water on the kettle, we talk a little, but I’m falling asleep again, I need to sleep again, there is a moment about ten minutes I get it until she talks to me for breakfast.

Then we go to bed again, I last about five minutes, get up, put on my shoes and tell her I’ll walk as far as I can back home. It’s 9h45 and the first bus to where I live comes at 11h08 on Sundays. Walking may be about an hour and half. I leave quietly, I do not hurry my steps and I try to maintain a constant one. I arrive at a bakery and I buy two croissants, at the bar it says: chocolate croissant and nougat croissant… basically for that reason I buy two … but when I eat them I realize that they are normal. It already seemed strange to me that it had a semi-circular shape; the sweets are long, the chocolate’s has chocolate on both sides and the nougat’s has sugar flower above. Mental note: sometimes the outside does matter!

I make it until four bus stops before mine, it is up to where my legs reach almost by inertia and I wait three minutes for the bus.

I take a shower.

We have breakfast in the house.

And I sleep until two in the afternoon.

Anyways.. it was a real good night!

The little one.

He sleeps on a pillow his size in the corner of the room. So peaceful, so innocent, what would he be dreaming about? Is he dreaming at all?

A little ago he looked at me. But the dim light of the lamp above me seems to be more interesting for his tiny amazed blue eyes. He was moving around, and though I tried not to pay attention to him, somehow my instincts managed to be attentive to every one of his clumsy little steps.

The teacher was showing us different moods that can be created with music in a movie, and he reacted immediately when he heard a lullaby and started swaying slowly to the rhythm of it. Every eyes were on him with smiles drawn on their faces. I was the only one who didn’t smile. Then his sharp little voice broke into the room in joy. Everybody was so enchanted by the sound.

Most of the time I feel the urge of covering my ears, too sharp sounds hurt me, and it’s not just because I don’t usually like those little ones, it happens to me even with the ambulance or the train’s brake.

Truth is, when there are little ones around me my senses come alert, I feel completely out of place, it’s like they don’t belong to the world that I do… or maybe, just maybe, it’s me the one who doesn’t belong to the world that they do.


What’s going on?

What’s happening here?

There are two more people in this room that were never meant to be here.

It feels strange.

I don’t have my privacy anymore.

I have to start changing clothes in the bathroom.

I cannot do whatever I want, not anymore.

I cannot have my own food without sharing.

I cannot sleep naked anymore.

I cannot listen to music out loud.

I feel weird and watched every time I write.

I cannot open and close the windows or curtains as I please without asking.


I don’t like people to depend on me, and the one who stays in this room after this weekend, will.