Luna de Coco: English

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sábado, 15 de junio de 2013

And for once there is nothing up my sleeve

It's Saturday afternoon and I can't study. I turn on the radio, a song starts to play.

I wish this was eternal. The sun on my skin, the white sheets araound my legs, your smile on my cheeks. I wish I didn't have to think of me saying goodbye to you.

You know, it's hard to find someone. But not just someone. Someone you're totally comfortable with. Someone who understands your irony and your passions, although you don't share them. Someone tho enjoys so much watching you laughing, laughing loud, crying of laughs; and tells you about it just by looking at you with his bright eyes.

"I used to run at first sight of the sun..."It's so curious. How many times I would have heard this song, but not listened to it. And now it feels so close. I could perfectly sing it to you while we're togetehr in the shower, fighting playfully for the coconut soap.

It's a love song. You know it's love when you suddenly realise that you're waiting for someone to wake up next to you. And that's all I'd like to so right now. Spend a whole life waiting for you to open your eyes and immediately smile at seeing my messy hair. How easy is to be selfish and forget the rest of the world when you're happy, don't you think?

But, of course, I could never tell you this. We know what we have, but we don't say it loud. We won't cry, we won't make drama. We will just pretend we're mature people saying goodbye to a perfect time in our lives, but we will never tell in words what's the thing we have. It would make things more complicated, wouldn't it?

Three weeks left. Dammit. I wanted so bad vacation to arrive until I realised you woulnd't be here for them, the moment I realised you were actually my real vacation from my everyday life, my routine, my mess.

The song finished a few minutes ago. But I can still feel the singer's voive running through my veins, next to the endorphines that your kisses created on my organism. Dammit, I used to run to be alone. Now I'd spend my whole life running for the time not to catch us. Bring forever young. Forever in early summer. Forever next to you.

But this is the real life, isn't it...

domingo, 21 de abril de 2013

Sunny Sunday

So what if I miss you?
The taste of your smile on my lips, the touch of your eyelashes on my cheeks.

So what if you were my weakness?
Everybody has to have a weak point in their souls.

So what if you'll never come back?
Maybe the moon will help me getting over it.

miércoles, 6 de marzo de 2013

Never ending city

I'm gonna miss this city. The way it smells when it rains, the long avenue that takes you to the sea. How all those cafés where I like to go on Sundays remind me better days in Paris. But I need to get the hell out of here. Todo me asfixia. El ruido ya no es ninguna cosmopolita melodía. El tráfico me llena los pulmones de mentiras. Je dois partir, très loin d'ici. Where it rains everyday et la lune se lève à midi.

Tengo que irme para encontrarme.

domingo, 3 de febrero de 2013

Anywhere.

Haven't you ever felt like you belonged to anywhere else?
Another country, another village, wherever. Just another place. It feels like the city lights you used to love after midnight now suddenly asphyxiate you. You need new blue air. Maybe the mountains, somewhere among the green woods. Or a little, tiny and white house by the cold ocean.

Haven't you ever felt the need to runaway?

domingo, 6 de enero de 2013

Let's start a new era

viernes, 31 de agosto de 2012

Skinny love

viernes, 24 de agosto de 2012

who, wer, quién.

Yesterday, I saw that film, the Bourne Identity. I like it pretty much. Not because I think is a good one in cinema's world, but because it makes me think about who we are, who we pretend to be, who we want to be.

In the film, Bourne starts lostin the middle of the sea, without an identity. A few fishermen rescue him, and he discovers he has a lot of skills, but, eventhough most of them are really valuable, the most important thing he wants to find out is unknown to him. What's his name? Who is he, apart from an amount of incredible habilities?
After some research, he finds some passports with his photograph. Loads of names, loads of identities. So, he still has the same problem, who is he?

That makes me think. We live linked to our names, and any part of us, any friend, any skill, any scar or any memory acts like chains that bind us to our identities.

Why is it as important to us to know who we are? Why, if most of the time we don't really know, but we pretend to?

We are who our enviroment wants us to be, we are how we get adapted to it.

So, in the end, we end up being who we pretend to be, although, sometimes, this means losing our real and original identity.