April.l9.2Ol5

April.l9.2Ol5

The minutes move slowly today / in a day in which the sun / is nothing more than a brighter blemish of gray in the sky. / The minutes move forward looking back, obsessed with the past, / bitten by memories, fat ticks, sucking the blood that should feed the future. / Then, the minutes go strugling frenetically in circles, / like dogs pursuing their own tails, / unconscious of each other, / crashing against each other like all galaxies even eventually do.

Things go slowly like in the spring. / Slowly, I leave my cave, isolation, my fears behind. / Fall is easy. / Gravity, laziness and depression do all the work. / Spring is hard, to rise is hard, one has to actually do it / as life is harder than death. / Deasth is nothingness. / No glory, however, no suffering either. / But Life one has to actually live / and love. / Regardless of that, / nobody wants to die, /  nobody wants do die. / Therefore, we work so we can sing.

Last night, / I had a dream. / Some teacher wanted to teach us something about improving our personalities. / All I could think about / was that I had lost my iPhone. / Maybe I had left it at the Giant by my house. / Better saying, / someone else’s house / in which I live / but not love. / I could not remember where I left my phone. / By the time the class ended / it had become an art event / in which nothing had been taught or learned / and people only went about aimlesssly / dancing, singing or just being disappointed. / A man dressed in a headless bear suit / tried to protest / but having a clown mask on did not help his case. / What he was saying was right, / but people felt that doing something at that point would be unfashionable / mainly when a clown faced man in a headless bear suit was asking us to do it.

Just glad that the event was over, / I went on looking for my iPhone. / From the hall where the event was happening, / a big old hangar, / even though renovated, / [Or maybe, it was an later car depot.] / quickly I reached the country side / where bushes and low trees were taking over the footpaths. / It was the kind of place where bears hunt men. / I saw some houses that seemed to belong to well-paid college professors. / Unable to find my phone, / I pursued white dogs dressed as soldiers. / They were fighting the American revolution / in an old cartoon.

I went back to the hangar, / and remembered that I could have left my iPhone in the pocket of the coat that I had been wearing throughout the winter.

By the way, I don’t have an iPhone. / And, I don’t want / to have an iPhone. / And, by the way, / I give much more importance to my journal / than I give to my phone. / My journal does not have an automatic back up. / I bought my journal for a cheaper price / because it is green. / Black and brown journals are more expensive. / It seems that indeed happiness is cheaper than seriousness or sadness. / But somewhat, seldom we choose to be happy. / We are just like the dogs obsessed with the ticks in our tails. / In the attempt of killing them / biting off pieces of our own skin and flesh, / aware of the other dogs only when they crash into us / but not as much when we crash into them.

Bird sings at my window. / This Sunday comes with promises of happiness / regardless of the gray skies. / Gray is also a color. / If i can see a color, / i am not blind. / I see it as a good thing, / and i'll celebrate it / for this gray is my Graal.