JulioBiason.Net

I would fight a war for you
I would be someone else for you
I would left everything behind for you
You were my reason to live

But my wishes have been denied
I got broken hearted
My soul, shatered
I lost all hope
I lost all my dreams
But I got a reason to live

And this reason is me

There is postcard
Right here in my table
It has your name
Your address
And a lot of small talk

I never sent it
I never will
Those words
And that image
Will die alone
Without you ever knowing them

I found this poem when cleaning up my old notebook. I decided to post it here for no particular reason, maybe I just don’t want it to die when someone erase everthing that still is there. I know it sounds girlish, but I don’t care anymore. It was written in the worst saturday of my life.

aguardo te todas as noites
para falar contigo
ler tuas palavras
me sentir proximo
e mesmo assim nao apareces

sonho com o dia
em que poderei beijar teus ombros
e cheirar teu cabelo
e cair no sono abracado em ti
um dia que talvez jamais verei

fico imaginando se nao tens um amor
alguem que te preencha e te faca feliz
quisera eu ser esse amor
e por medo de nao ser
tenho ciumes de todos proximos a ti
ate’ aqueles que diz-me nao gostar
pelo simples fato de estarem proximos

tantas vezes falei o que sinto
tantas vezes fui sincero comigo
e tantas vezes senti que tambem querias
e nunca me falaste nada
tantas vezes quis te fazer feliz
tantas vezes quis entrar em teu coracao
e tantas vezes me bateste a porta
e tantas vezes nao desisti

me engano quando penso que nao sinto nada
porque e’ mais forte que eu
e isso me corroi por dentro
porque nao sei o que sentes
e tudo que eu tenho
sao velhas esperancas surradas

varias vezes senti
meu peito quase explodindo
de tanto que te amo
e ainda assim
ha’ esse enorme buraco no meio dele

tudo o que eu queria
era poder sentir teus labios juntos aos meus
mas tudo que tenho conseguido
e’ sentir o gosto de minhas proprias lagrimas

pensei em te esquecer
pensando em outras mulheres
elas podem parecer bonitas
mas nenhuma chega a teus pes
nenhuma tem a beleza da noite dos teus cabelos
nenhuma tem o doce mel dos teus olhos
nenhuma tem o brilho do teu sorriso
nenhuma tem os angulos certos das curvas do teu corpo
nenhuma se compara a ti

There is a city
Capitol of a great nation
A nation of great craftsman
They built a large tower
They built a large statue
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
Of a nation that tried
To be the one
And people that smoke a lot
And like sausages
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
With castles of an old time
Were a short emperor meet a large man
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
Known for its beer
And the people who eat sausages
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
Known by its wine
With bubbles
And they didn’t speak french
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
With a coliseum
That isn’t known by that name
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
Surrounded by the sea
They say it is sinking
But the people there don’t care
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
Of great bankers
They paid for several arts
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
With a big church
And a tower that is falling
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
With its walls still up
I was there
And you don’t

There is a city
Known by a crazy horse race
Which gave a name to a car
I was there
And you don’t

Why do I hurt myself?
Why do I smile when I’m depressed?
Why I can fall into depression so fast?
Why do I wait for something that will never be?
Why can’t I enjoy the moment?
Why my memory can’t remember what’s important?
Why my memory keeps things that doesn’t help?
Why I build hopes that will never live?
Why do I try to ilude myself?
Why do I wait the best?
Why do I daydream things that would never happen?

Why I had to type all that?

On our road in this life
Fate puts obstacles
And sometimes it splits the road
And we must choose one to go

But fate is a little tricky
And sometimes makes you believe
You have choices when you have none

This happened to me
I thought I had choices
Just to find out I had none
And in my wandering in the road
I ended on a dark, dead forest
A forest I know so well

The only choice I have now
Is keep going

Weekendhacker: first, you need to learn how to use your angry to productive stuff, like this:

You dream your dreams
You daydream your dreams
Suddenly, you feel the cold hand of reality
Slapping your face
While it screams
“You have almost thirty!
It’s time to stop dreaming!”
Your turn to it
Slap it back
And say
“Shut up, bitch!
Reality doesn’t have hands to slap people!
Reality doesn’t have a mouth to scream!
I’m back to my dreams.”

Yeah, I was about to post it as a comment, but decided to add it here

Today I caught myself
Thinking about her again

Making up hopes
Tearing them apart
At the weight of reality

Sometimes I want to cry
But my tears have run dry

I try to move my mind
Far far away
Seeing movies
Working
Playing with my projects

But, no matter what
I know I’m running in circles
And then, someday
I will catch myself
Thinking about her again

I was just crossing the living room and follow the final of a movie my sister was watching. It was Wit and the movie ends with Emma Thompson saying this poem, by John Donne, which is simply beautiful:

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

And no, I’m not thinking about anything related.

For a long time
I thought I was depressed

I could smile
I could laugh
But things weren’t nice

I had bad thoughts
Thoughts of leaving this world
Thoughts of harming myself
And I thought I was depressed

Now I can’t smile
I can’t laugh
The bad thoughts aren’t here
Tears come all the time
And I feel so lonely