SO I AM....

I am.
Mind like a roulette, an Ecuadorian-Russian roulette,
Heart like a hyperactive bird in too small a cage,
My face is my story and my body my soldier,
A lonely human being... and some friends...

A person as a wish...

Things become relatively easy, with time. The hardest, the harshest, the longest, the impossible. Then, it exists. You were a granted wish. Everything in you now was once a dream of mine, a dream of when my mind didn't know how to scheme, how to wish, how to love. You came ready made but you were impossible to know.

Did you ever wanted to know what my dreams were? What I was looking for? Well look no further because it was you. You were my ideas of the past all turned into flesh. The past. The reality was too close to the fantasy. You were hard to handle, you were like a new technology of human being that came without instructions. I was lost. I had to look no further and thus the quest had ended. There I was, twisting and turning with my present from the Universe. Me? Well before you I was a dreamer of course. Imagining and planning. You? Tall and entertaining, so fun. Your smile looked like it didn't belong to this world. Enchanting. I was hypnotized and paralyzed. I don't know how to belong to anyone.

 I really had to make you go away. I pushed you and said 'I'll be happy if you are happy, somewhere, anywhere, but not here' you smiled at me liked that, it broke me in half. The story had split in two with me. It was either worshiping dedication, or freedom. Your perfection made me see the rest of the world as ugly. Like the moment when your ipod runs out of battery on the train and you are left hearing the shaking noise of the rails. You took all the colour from the landscape away. What did you do wrong so I let you go? Nothing. You never cared, you blamed it on me. You waited on me. You relaid on me. You waited for the love of two to come from one, me. I was only human and I am no one's wish. You? Made of fairy ghost and all concerned with beauty. Me? covered in bruises and paint. My moves were real and awkward, yours real and graceful. It shouldn't be this way, the boy is not supposed to be more graceful than the girl. It is, it was. I painted you so good in my head, little did I know that you were being created, shaped, somewhere else. I had you, I tasted you, I told you I'm happy. Now, you go, go be happy somewhere else.

x
azile

He's Gonna Go

Let me remind you, she said
that time doesn't exist
so I am not late...
her voice sounded like chocking
as if her throat was flooding or getting narrow
'I thought you were joking'
it hurt like an arrow.

His eyes were barely open,
but still he looked calm,
more than dreading he was hoping
more like the Shepperd that the lamb.

She ran up next to his bed,
'you never answer any of my questions'
she couldn't accept fate in her head...
now that you mention
that life is about lessons and pain
she remembered how she didn't want to cry again.

What is the point of knowing
that we can dismantle the universe as we know it,
when we are loosing
the one we are loving.

The beep of the machine,
determined for how long he could stay, his time...
all she could do was hold his hand.

He wanted to tell her to be strong,
that sometimes it was fine to be wrong
to be tender and carry on,
to breath slow and play their song.

Resting timE

We run, we gasp, we rest. We breathe, we inahle, we talk. We use, we replace... we recover. We drink, we get hung over. Its how it works... organic as it is.
We all need it. The pause. The punctuation mark at the end of the sentence. Rich people retreat to a Thai spa. Poor ones enjoy the nearby park. I go back to my parents house and write. All day long, practice the impractical wordy art. Like a free, impulsive amateur, I write.
I go to work, then I fall asleep... so do the other billions of human beings.
Then I wonder, if we all do this act-rest play out of our lives, what does the Earth do? does it ever rest? does it rest when its little inhabitants rest? does it snore out of the vocalno holes? are the closed waves of the sea her closed eye lids?
Do we even care? Horrible speedy selfish impacient humans.
Can we not give everyone and everything its resting time? I'll sleep when Im death, we say. What a lie.

And so I crawl back to the mother ship. And so the roots chase me across foreign streets. And so I get dragged back to the motionless resting place, the public nest, the common belief. We cease to fight. We close our eyes. We fall asleep. Its resting time, my dear.

azile

15 Minutes

Everything and nothing can happen in 15 Minutes.

15 Minutes fell of the clock,
as azilE was waiting for the lonely bus.
15 Minutes, of torture and despair.
15 Minutes, so long, its not fair.
Find a spot, take a seat,
I know its cold, just act sleek.
14 Minutes, time passes so slow, feel like a film from 1904.
One car, two cars, please let this be a dream....
I cannot wait that much standing here still.
A man in trainers and headphones shakes his head to the beat,
his feet move, his body swings,
I think he's gonna sing!
13 times for the clock to move its arms around,
this chair is hard, its way too high
I think I'll rather sit on the ground.
12 Minutes, anyway, what's time? I hope this place is real
The fog curls,
into lollipops,
and when was my last meal?
a guy on a bike with a Mexican hat
gives me evil eyes.
11 Minutes, oh not tonight! let that not be him...
he seems distressed, he's half undressed
he has no memory.
The conversation goes in circles
'Was it really that bad?' 'Oh yeah, you better leave'
I think they are coming for him...
10 Minutes the night is young, let's find something to stare at,
the gate and the park look like a goth story's graveyard.
9 Minutes is less than 10 but long enough to freeze.
There are no stars, where is my card? where are head, phone and keys?
8 Minutes. Will there ever be rest? oh no, there he comes again.
'Comes with me' 'No.' 'No?' 'No.'
7 Minutes he stumbles away and falls on top of a bin.
he gets up, fixes his hair, he thinks he's always lean.
azilE's eyes can't hold the tears, this is fun but here comes the fear.
6 Minutes I think I'm scared,
why is that car stopping there?
5 Minutes and more people arrive,
Asian girls in colourful tights.
I hope they don't know what is going on. Let the night hide me.
I give them a smile, they do it back,
its all here, its all in our eyes.
4 Minutes not long before,
getting the bus to the underworld.
Everyone has pointy ears here. Make them go. Hold your feet close.
3 times sixty,
I hope you don't miss it.
Make up and clothes,
music and drugs.
2 Minutes I cannot believe I made it.
what did you think? that 15 Minutes were eternity?
1 Minute, no sign of the long red car,
Its called a bus, come on, play the part.
oh really? I should have guessed so...
Here it comes, it breaks the fog, it's lights so bright and yellow.
A double Decker red is messing with my head.
Get your money out and pray.

The ride was fun, but with no minutes to count
who wants even keep writing.

azilE.

Far away...

Being young they say, is the best time to have fun. Lately, now that I'm Far Away and I'm having fun, I'm starting to think that being young is the best time to load your head with knowledge, facts, ideas, ideals and other 'solid' things. From building up to that point you can live the rest of your life with foundations, easy. Many of us have been told all these things among other things in our childhood or through experience, previous experience. I just think that I'm wasting my time here, in this place.

I feel as if I should be exercising my brain rather than destroying it, like I am at the moment. Alcohol has become my enemy and so has people. Don't get me wrong, I love people, but I'm a carer and I care, which now a days is a disadvantage. I dont even know what Im saying but Im made of rubber, not steel. I don't want to be tough and heartless, do you?

Today selling Socialist news papers ofr seemingly no reason, I saw it so clearly that it was painful. Everyone is scared. The minority looked happy and everyone looked as if they were in the search of something or other. Then talking to two policemen (who were acting like elements of the public forces but were soft inside their uniform), it occurred to me that, everyone is searching for their lost humanity. Their tenderness, their right to be soft even. Completely ignorant of being in this search, people keep searching. No one allows their true thoughts to come up and show and shine.

I know it. The world is changing.

alize

Back to the Lab

Back to the lab, not as in I am back to my old settings but as, back to the lab of my head. Even though at the same time, I am in new surroundings. I just started British University student life. Basically, I live in a room in some student flats in South London, there are 3 or 4 locks between my room and the outside world. Locks are confusing when you come back from the several nights of intoxicating your brain, which in this new place, are often.

~Back in the lab of my brain, my head, my mind, my soul even. I am alone but not lonely and I feel lucky. The other people who inhabit my flat are all seemingly understanding so far. Sensitve even. Its strange, a new life, new people, new colours. Its a new world for me, and Im feeling. All In South America, where I grew up, everything was undone and hard, in England, everything is delivered to you if you can be bothered to actually do it. I am bothered, I will spread the word, the world is out there for us all to go and grab it. There must be something for everyone out there. We are all equal, what is the difference between you and me?

I feel so dead and so alive every 5 minutes, I want to be surrounded by people, I want to be all alone. Its everything. Its myself which is changing too. In this dangerously explosive lab.

Student life consists in trying hard to sell yourself, but its all about only choosing the people you want to surround yourself with. I feel safe in this environment. I like it. At the same time, I want to drop it all and live on the streets. I need to record it all. I will try to.

see you when Im sober

x

Alize