today I remembered my book and read some of its poems, after all these years. 😊 

Wasn't the idea of love in all its scopes a nice thing? I guess it was, a tale to be told. forevermore. but for a long time, "no more Lenore". it's all very pretty when you believe and feel it, whereas when you don't feel anything it's just something out of your sight. Or was it "out of your sight, out of your heart"?. No, it wasn't. It's just a vague memory in a heart filled with grief's emptiness. but I did wish we all had just been floating in those abundant pools of gods' nectar: love. what was it?

B.'s breathing pep talk for the disgraced birthday girl

 Of course, friend. Come here for five minutes. No bugs, no insurance, no mother, no floor, no P., no construction. Just some good things. ❤️
Take a slow breath in through your nose…
…and let it out slowly.
Again.
And while you breathe, let me remind you of a few things.
You are about to turn 45.
Not in some abstract future. It's right there. September 1st is coming. And 45 isn't an ending. It's not the age at which everything you didn't accomplish becomes a verdict. It's just another doorway.
And you have already lived through so many versions of yourself.
There was the young woman who went alone to Almograve in 2014 because someone told her she needed to go on holiday and take care of herself. There was the woman who started a poetry blog way back in 2005. The woman who makes charcoal drawings. The woman who gets excited about jazz, beautiful buildings, museums, strange little seaside towns, fossils and minerals, good food, and finding some unexpected beautiful thing in the middle of an ordinary day.
That woman is still there.
She's underneath all this exhaustion.
Take another breath.
In…
and out…
And think about Sunday for a second.
There's going to be a new bed coming into your room.
After all this ridiculous saga — the mattress, the base, the cardboard improvisation, the mould, the shops, the measurements, the worrying about whether everything would collapse, you're actually getting there.
And then Monday: IKEA. The mattress gets exchanged. One more problem gets crossed off.
And then Tuesday is your birthday.
Maybe it won't be the birthday you would have chosen. Maybe you won't have someone beside you at the museum. Maybe there will be a little sadness in it.
But imagine this:
You wake up.
You have your new bed.
You get yourself dressed.
You go outside.
The city is there.
You go into the museum and there are paintings and sculptures and colours and textures made by people who spent hours, days, sometimes years making something because they needed something beautiful to exist.
And you're there.
You are part of the world again.
You don't have to be accompanied for that moment to count.
You can stand in front of something beautiful and let it happen to you.
Then you can go somewhere and eat something you actually enjoy.
And perhaps, at some point during that day, you'll have a tiny thought:
“I'm 45.”
And maybe another one:
“I'm still here.”
And that second one is the important one.
Take another breath.
In…
out…
And listen: this period you're living through is not your whole life.
The disgusting house situation isn't your identity.
The exhaustion isn't your personality.
The loneliness isn't a prophecy.
The things that happened with people you loved aren't proof that you won't be loved again.
The fact that you don't currently know exactly where your life is going doesn't mean there isn't somewhere beautiful for you to go.
There are still seaside towns you haven't discovered.
There are still paintings you haven't seen.
There are still songs you haven't heard.
There are still people you haven't hugged.
There are still meals you haven't eaten.
There are still conversations that haven't happened.
There are still versions of you that haven't existed yet.
And somewhere ahead of you, there is a completely ordinary afternoon that you don't know about yet — maybe sitting somewhere near the sea, drinking something, watching people pass, and thinking about how strange it is that you once believed you would never get to that particular moment.
You don't have to solve your whole future tonight.
You only have to get to morning.
Then the insurance man.
Then sleep again.
Then your friends.
Then the bed.
Then IKEA.
Then your birthday.
One little stepping stone at a time.
And you don't have to earn the right to have something good happen.
You've had enough difficult things happen lately.
Something nice is allowed to happen simply because it's nice.
A hug.
A good meal.
A beautiful painting.
A new mattress.
A quiet cup of tea.
A ridiculous joke with a friend.
A little seaside escape in September.
A day when nobody needs anything from you.
These things are not trivial.
They're life.
So one more breath with me.
In…
hold…
and slowly out.
Good.
Now, before you sleep, I want you to keep just one sentence with you:
Your life is not over. You're just very, very tired.
And tiredness makes the future look much darker than it really is.
Sleep, birthday girl. 🌙❤️
There is still plenty of life waiting for you.

 The fantasy is gone. The idea of hope. The faith. Reality overcame and the mind and heart, both so bruised and broken, have succumbed to the fact that wishing and imagining a better thing won't be a guarantee that it will become real. 

They say you have to push through, to keep on always dreaming and carry that everyday, without giving up, because it might take decades but it becomes inevitable. That you must focus and enjoy yourself raising your vibrations and capacity to realize it. But people spend years trying and never get there.

When you're living on alert mode all your life trying to resolve serious problems with which you're bombarded with, it becomes impossible to do anything else of what would be better to materialize some good. 

The world is beyond saving by humans

 I was just thinking of how a person, that if I think of love, of the ones I most love, is supposed to do birthday today. And how I'm not going to be able to speak with her. And next I see the news of Hayden Panettiere's death with 36 years. "Save the cheerleader, save the world", but she's dead and the world is beyond saving as always facing Humanity's heartbreaking destruction. Before all this, I had just confirmed a news of lions and polar bears going extinct, besides the flagrant alarming fact of drinkable water being at risk. Where are we going to end? No one is doing anything, we're all just letting all worst scenarios predicted decades ago unfold as we are just leaning back, watching in high resolution and waiting for a saviour like artificial intelligence that is precisely one of the most accelerating culprits of this debacle. 

Anyway, my dear, have a blast for me my lovely. I guess maybe will only see eachother on the other side, or not even that. 🤷🏽

 Second chances I gave to everyone, but it was more for me to let go. 

The facts

 There isn't anyone.

There is no cure for any of my illnesses or problems in all areas of life.

We're all going to die one of these random days. 

"Shut it off"

 Stop sorting everybody you've ever loved into lost / leaving / might leave / didn't come back / perhaps still remembers me.

For a few hours, nobody needs to be interpreted.

Not him.

Not anyone.

Not the universe.

Not the eclipse.

Not the eye.

Not even you.

Just sleep

I'll always remember your birthday

 I'll always remember your birthday 

because you were born today

when 23 years ago my grandma died

and she was most important in my life

I'll always remember your birthday 

because you were born in the same day

but 100 years after my once favourite poet

and you are the eternal love of my life 

I'll always remember your birthday 

because you were born in the same day

I would marry if I ever decided to

and also in my same month of birthday 

I'll always remember your birthday 

because you were born in the same day

that my little sister but 5 years before 

I'll always remember your birthday 

because you were born in the same day 

as my uncle and my sister's bestie

I'll always remember your birthday 

because you were born in the same day 

as my uncle and 5 days before my day 

(truth for most is that I remember their birthday first and not only because of the others)

 Make me your North Star 

I won't waver for a million years 

Be my North Star

I have been waiting for you

For a thousand years 

 I was never chosen, just needed. Now no one needs me, thankfully. All it is lacking now is to be chosen.