Thursday, 11 December 2014

A pen, mine

I miss me pen. I've been using me pen since I was 14 years old. Not the same one per se but I've only exchanged it twice since. And the first time for foolish carelessness.
This time however it has simply dried on me. That has never happened before. It is most probably the reason why I haven't thought of buying a new one yet. As if this one still had so much to give.
But no more, the time has come. We shall part and a new one shall take its place. It's not personal, me pen. It's not me, it's you.

Sunday, 2 November 2014


Can't you see we're all kooks around here? Hell, that's the beauty of it all! Weirdos, freaks, mad, mad, mad - humans!, what else?

Saturday, 28 June 2014

Real letters

I write for me alone. Though I wish I had someone I could write to. I wish I could write letters again. The real letters. The ones where you can pour your entire soul out. But this new world has no time for letters. Or philosophies that take longer than a quotation.
My reality doesn't differ from anyone else's. I share the same dreams and hopes with millions of others. My fiction, however, finds no peer. And I know they exist. Not necessarily with the same fiction but with the same needs.
One that understands how complex the human soul can be. One who's not afraid to dive deeper into it. A writer and reader to share different opinions, different thoughts and different passions of the mind.
To stay aware. Sharp. To learn.

I wish I could write letters. And get letters in return.

Wednesday, 25 June 2014

Never say goodbye

I missed this feeling. When it's your last night and you just sit there and watch. And then you feel the warmth. It's such a peaceful place. You watch your surroundings, most of all, you observe your friends and you feel as if everything is at its right place. You simply feel good.

Such an ephemeral feeling it is.

Saturday, 31 May 2014

What is with this memory? I

Maybe the meaning of my having such an awful memory is because I keep experiencing new things, new worlds. Whilst eating watermelon beneath a Mediterranean sun and pine trees, near Rome, it brought me back to my infant days at the beach.
I remembered because I was experiencing it 'again'.

Saturday, 17 May 2014


Time. Time is a funny thing. A week can seem a month, yet that same week can seem a day. 
It runs so fast in its endless hours.

Sunday, 11 May 2014

Nomads freedom II

Truth be told, I just wanna find me roots. Wherever. I don't really care where. I just want the feeling. Wherever. Shall they come now for I am tired of searching. Roots please, wherever.


Oh this endless search for something meaningful! Such a hard chore! Why, oh why couldn't I settle with a more mundane goal? Why do I want it all? Why do I keep on pursuing the impossible dream? I'm so tired. How dreadful it is to dream so much, so high! Mind of mine, come back to Earth, even if you don't know where it is.