Mourning

 We've mourned the death of loved ones

But now, more than ever altogether 

We're mourning the coming death of things:

the nature surrounding us 

and the nature within us

Once we're aware of death everywhere 

At any moment of any second now

We can't unfeel it

We can't stop this heavy weight 

Darkening our minds and souls

Emptying our grieving hearts

Wallowing in a perpetuous tear

Never to get rested again 

Extroverted? Here are some tips on how to be more quiet and reflective.

 Every now and then, all around, I notice titles of articles giving advice to introverts on how to become more social. The message is usually subtle but clear: speak more, mingle more, participate more. As if it's bad, as if the quiet, reflective temperament needs to be adjusted so it can better fit a world that rewards constant interaction. For a change, I would love to see the opposite kind of article. Not because it is absolutely wrong with being extroverted. Social energy, spontaneity, and enthusiasm can be beautiful qualities, as long as they don't mean narcissistic traits. But contemplation is an incredibly valuable human capacity, and it is often overlooked. Being quiet is not the same as being empty or dull. Quite the opposite. Silence is often where observation, sensitivity, and creativity grow. When we slow down enough to listen instead of rushing to respond, we begin to notice subtle things: the tone behind someone’s words, the rhythm of a place, the emotions that move quietly beneath everyday conversations.
As someone who naturally leans toward quietness, I’ve always experienced that listening is a form of being present. It is a way of respecting the moment and the people around us. When we listen deeply, we allow others to unfold at their own pace. We also allow our own thoughts to mature before we express them.
So if I were to write advice for someone very extroverted who wanted to explore the contemplative side of life - besides living a more slow life, enjoying more time looking at the sky, the birds and just observing the surroundings - , it might look something like this:

- First, try leave space in conversations. Silence is not something that needs to be filled immediately. Sometimes a pause invites a deeper thought to appear.

- Second, spend a small portion of your day without stimulation. No phone, no music, no conversation. Just observing. It can be surprising how much clarity comes from a few minutes of stillness.

- Third, practice listening without being already preparing your reply. Simply receive what the other person is saying. This alone can transform how conversations feel. Be less vain and don't impose your opinions.

And finally, remember that reflection is not withdrawal. It is simply another way of engaging with the world, one that moves more slowly, but often more deeply.
Perhaps the healthiest way to live is not by pushing introverts to become louder or extroverts to become quieter, but by allowing both qualities to exist and learn from each other.
The world needs enthusiasm and conversation.But it also needs silence, listening, and contemplation.
And sometimes the most meaningful things emerge from the quiet spaces between words. By the way, read more books 😄

PS: Do take notice of the tone of your voice. If you tend to speak louder than others, maybe you should analyse deeply why you do that and speak in a more pacing way. 

Disguise

 If you don't feel 

That every inch of you 

Is made to be with me

Close, always

Then, nevermind 

It never mattered 

What is love if not with this despair?😶

 My, goodness, how much I loved you, how much I love you, it has always been you, no one else. Your Spanish is perfect, don't worry. Your face is perfect, I'm sorry if I ever left you the impression that my ancestry trauma with the moustache issue was something that made me not like it as much. You were in every measure, in every inch of you, the person I Ioved the most and you know it. 

(after the scene played by Alan Rickman and Juliet Stevenson in the movie Truly, Madly, Deeply, when they're reciting the poem "La Muerta" by Pablo Neruda; I needed this to recall us 🙏🏽❣️)

 Now that I have been more sick it has become harder not to call you. I don't know if the other day was a fluke or just another thing meant for me to face stuff and take other kind of decisions or just another chance like telling me that the time has come. I wish that I can really rest when I am dead, because it's going to be awful if it turns out the suffering continues and I'm aware of it all as always. Crap, I hated almost every second of this shit.

Things to say to myself at this moment

 I do not need to solve the world tonight.

I do not need to correct every lie.

I do not need to win any argument.

My peace is more valuable than being right.

Silence can be strength.

Calm is power.

My nervous system deserves protection.

I am allowed to disengage.

Other people’s dysfunction is not my responsibility.

I can observe without absorbing. 

My health comes first. Always.

Anger is a signal, not a command.

I choose softness over reactivity.

I am healing. Healing people protect their energy.

I don’t have to say the clever comeback.

I don’t have to prove I see the injustice. I already know I do.

The ghosts of the past are not in control anymore.

I survived undermining. I survived depression. I am still here.

My worth does not shrink because someone minimized me.

My body is trying to help me, not punish me.

 In these last years, given everything, I have become much more "eat the rich", "put all fascists, pedophiles, billionaires, homophobes, racists, dictators, psychopaths, red-pills, in an island and sink it", kind of person. 

 I lacked the ambition of being a person. 

I wish I had been a bird. Either way.

 I'm no longer funny; real & honest, so facing all as it is. (truth be said life has nothing to be funny about)

Lightning in a jar

 Our love was like a fulgurite

It started with thalis almight

Of a written verse prompting 

In a chat while the music

Played united us all

But we were both in our world 

Pretending there was no one else

Remember that?

We never made our song

We only made our poem