Lost in space.

The afternoon sun of a spring day is following her down the street. She walks in a calm pace enjoying the fact that she can wear her leather jacket and sunglasses again. Before she lights a cigarette while walking, she takes a deep breath to feel a light scent of rebirth in nature; only that the beautiful medieval city she lives in, doesn’t smell like that at all… it smells like Death. The smell of rotting bodies is invading her lungs now. Her face frowns as her skin trembles and for a moment her mind is taken far away, in heavier times. She tries to banish the morbid thoughts from her head, fixes her aviator sunglasses and takes a cigarette out of her pocket. She lights the Lucky Strike with her silver lighter and she continues to walk, but she is walking now as doesn’t want to disturb anything else…

She is now on her way back home. It is warm outside and she doesn’t feel comfortable with it. “I have to  wash the dishes, to clean my desk, to do laundry and write the presentation for tomorrow… Fuck!”, her thoughts are filled up with what she has to do when she gets to the dorms. These chores are not the only things running through her mind now… she has the feeling someone, something is following her. It is a creepy feeling that now surrounds her like an aura. She looks around and behind but nothing and no one is there since it isn’t such a populated shortcut in the old city.

The raven colored haired girl changes the song to blast in her earbuds with something that might be cheering her up. Surprisingly she chooses a song that she didn’t listen since the tenth grade. She remembers how she used to enjoy looking at people as they walked, she liked to observe them, to analyze them. She takes the shot to do it again as she is now on the main street and people are walking right by her. The girl sees indifferent faces, sad faces, preoccupied faces, worried faces, mad faces, insane faces, dreamy, absent but just like before only one or two faces smiling. the young woman wonders if the others can smell the macabre scent that persisted in the air; probably not. It becomes more and more annoying with every step as the gross smell now starts to sting her nostrils. She focuses on the lyrics of the song that probably is contributing to her hearing destruction and smiles at everything it reminds her of… She really is questioning everything these days.

The girl is now in the front of her dorm building and she chooses to stay only to flirt with the end of her days once again. As she lights another cigarette she takes a deep breath and is surprised by the warm smell replaced the ugly one. It smells like warm, leaves and wind. She can now shake now all the nasty thoughts out of her head; she takes the last drags and reviews once more her tasks and… “Shit… let’s get it over with.”

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Still counting.

Do these moments even evolve somehow or I sit here waiting for another stump to crash? I can see the snake eating itself in the same tremendous cycle… Every day, every week, every month and so on and so forth. To keep dreaming, to be daring… what for?! But if you do it… how do you do it? When do you do it? Do you just say “Fuck it. This ain’t for me.” Oh, mate… I wish I could. Compromise… that costs. It costs a lot of money, even more than the cost of a fucked up mind. Don’t you ever say “this is it” but then back down because you have no idea what’s next?! And how do you take/make the next?!

Between beers, cigarettes, a party there, a book read here… what the hell is this? Life? Hahah… funny. Not. Most of us used to watch films or TV series and thinking “Mate, college rocks. I can’t wait.” That happening somewhere in the seventh grade and then in high school we couldn’t wait to get out of there. Now we realize that college is that place where you are broke, barely alive from all-nighters spent either studying something that won’t be a priority in a “career” or drinking our brains of, a group of friends just as fucked up as us, no prince charming or a needy princess… just lectures that don’t make any sense and exam after exam… well… Fuck!

This was just my mind bursting after 48 hours of not sleeping, reminding myself that I have this thing called blog and the urge to bug other people than my roommates.Don’t you sympathize?!

“Beer you later, Bastards!”

Ever Dream.

               ‘I look at her talking and… her face, her skin starts to crack. Before I knew it she shatters into million pieces. What was that… what was, is this? How… how do I go back? Where do I go back? My room and him… Who’s him? I start to remember what induced me into this lethargy. The blood. Our hands. I close my eyes and try to focus on my room. It feels like one of those dreams when you are falling but now, instead of skyscrapers, I am surrounded by flames. Flames that do not burn, but cut my skin. I hit the ground.’

The only thing I hear screaming in the back of my head is something that I say for years now… “Open your eyes. Close your heart.” I hear it louder and louder; I am afraid to open my eyes. I am afraid of where I may find myself. How long I stayed as a breathing cadaver?! What just happened? All the things I saw. All the things I remembered. All my life… all of the lives I lived. I feel my entire body numb. I feel the surface of my skin ice cold. My palm is pumping pain. My lungs are screaming for the forest scent. My mind is putting puzzle pieces where was void. My throat is burning. My stomach feels the puns of a dagger over and over again. I want to open my eyes but why can’t I let them open… I need strength to do that; a lot actually… Something soft caresses my frozen face. It feels like fur and it’s warm. The familiar smell of cigarettes is slowly making place in my nose. I have to do this. I have to open my eyes. “Oh, on Seven Hells!”.

I can see now the so familiar painted ceiling of my room.

  But…

                                                  gjvghj

She Wolf.

    So well known for her cruelty.

So loved for all her atrocities.

So blamed for all her doings.

So admired for her wars.

So hated for her laws.

So denied for her morals.

So feared for all her tortures.

So exiled for the good inside her.

So misunderstood for all her crimes.

So honored for the lives she took.

So sad for the lack of light in her soul.

So proud for the darkness inside her mind.

So enraged for the army she controlled.

So tired for the Crown upon her head.

So sinful for the roses in her gardens.

So tragic for the men in her chambers.

So innocent for the pages in her bedroom.

So terrifying for the souls at her gates.

So kind for the animals in her forests.

So little for the lover in her bed.

So much more for the lust in her.

So tormented for her Throne.

So black for her heart.

So red for the tears she screamed.

So gore for her victims.

So envied by the women who wished were her.

So cold for the Summer’s Day.

So outside for the times she lives in.

So focused on her duty.

SO NECESSARY FOR HERSELF.

SO HEARTFELT FOR THE EVIL INSIDE HER. 

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Seven Widows Weep.

For the Seven Hells there

Are Seven Gods.

For Seven Wishes

Seven widows mourn;

For Seven dead children

A poetess cries.

 From Seven poems

Ask and Embala

Have come to life.

The eyes of the bear

Cry for seven flames.

For Seven humans

Walk the Earth

The fox is praying.

The moon uprising

Listens to the howling wolf.

He cries for his

Seven

Killed cubs

In the cold winter morning;

When Seven suns

Burned down the tree.

For Seven snakes now

Walk the skies.

Seven widows grieve now

The nine worlds that

Used to be.

                     foggy-woods

I am.

On the 7th day, I go again. I go on with a game.

I am a woman. I am young. I am power. I am a wanderer. I am a collector. I am ephemeral. I am a reader. I am a writer. I am an Old Spirit. I am a player. I am the dissident. I am eternal. I am follower of the old ways. I am a smoker. I am a lover. I am a Faustian mind. I am a heart shaped box. I am sanguine. I am an addict for music, art, coffee, history, mystery. I am my weaknesses. I am bloody. I am a dark mind. I am a creator. I am a demon. I am a traveler. I am a destroyer. I am an escapist. I am a dreamer. I am a paradox. I am a hunter for pleasure. I am a visionary. I am negative. I am The Game. I am the Seven Sins combined. I am so much more.

I am everything in between who I was and who I will become. I am everything I want to be in this very moment. I am the perfect of the Imperfect.

For this is something I wanted to do for some time now… the start of a new era for me, something in my favors. Light and Dark. Fire and Ice. My Soul and my Mind. The Pages and the Ink. Everything my mind sees and creates is going to be impregnated on pages. I get inspired from everything surrounding me… animals, humans, elements, objects, space and time, life…

Enjoy your time, Bastards!

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