It's with a C.

He pensado mucho,
Sobre tu cara, tus brazos,
Y la manera en que me has abrazado.
Recuerdo todo y siento abrumada.
Es que cada vez que le veo a una persona con ojos morenos,
Te veo. Ay, que me torturan aquellos ojos.
Me persiguen desde el principio hasta el fin de mis sueños.
Solamente puedo pensar en ti.
Y cuando me veo a mí misma en un espejo,
Como cuando me estoy cepillando los dientes-
Imagino que estás detrás de mi,
Me abrazas entre tus alas, y me proteges.



Es un problema tremendo,
Explicar mis sentimientos a ti.
Porque cada vez que digo algo,
No quieres oírme y sabes que eso es la verdad.

Pues, he aprendido mucho aquí,
Sobre las culturas, y las lenguas,
Pero más sobre mí misma.
Y he sacado una conclusión,
Que todo me recuerda de ti.

Los mosaicos en el Parc Güell,
Me recuerdan de Latinoamérica,
Todo me recuerda de ti.



Tengo miedo.
Porque incluso las cosas que tienen nada que ver contigo,
Las cosas como los mosaicos,
Me recuerdan de ti.
Es como todo que existe en el mundo es apagado sin ti.



Solamente hay tres cosas que tienen importancia,
Tu amistad, tu opinión, y tu amor.
Sin ti, no tengo nada,
Y sin ti, me parezco como nada.
Tengo que decirte, lo siento por la confusión mental.
La vida humana no consiste de mucho tiempo,
Pero quiero gastar mi tiempo contigo,
Porque no puedo tener amor por alguien más.
Mi corazón solamente puede pertenecer a ti.
Ojala, el día podría llegar pronto,
Cuando todo estará alineado por nosotros,
Porque mi corazón se duele mucho de trabajar demasiado,
Estando a través el estanque contigo.

Description: What we shared at the pub.

She's worried; so suspicious. "I know all about his agenda." This is what she tells me as she slides her long, slender fingers down her cold glass of Strongbow Black. Then she continues, "I want you to promise me to keep your legs closed."

I reply, "Anything for you..." and she shoots me a doubtful glance so I say, "my legs will remain crossed."

Her eyes are the bluest I have ever seen, and her lashes are black and thick like velvet. How can I lie to those eyes? I can't look at her face when I make my false promises.



A "Gol!" is screamed and celebrated in the background noise of the pub... she thinks I am "such a sap."

She thinks that I think that she is, "too drunk to think..."

"...so lets feel good and get another drink," she says with a wink.

We leave 2 euro each at the pub when we finish the final round.
;)

When you're young,
Everything is simple.
Everything is urgent, and requires immediate attention.
Patience isn't learned until later.

When you're young,
Eye contact is worth a thousand butterflies,
A push is worth two thousand,
A hug, three thousand;
And a kiss is worth a million.

When you're young you are golden,
And nothing, not even death can touch you.
The world is a playground.

Bliss is waking up every morning,
To explore,
To steal flowers from the neighbor's garden with your best friends,
To be chased by boys,
And to wake up at 6am Christmas morning.

When you're young, you want to grow up,
You think that when you are older,
You will have more power, and therefore more fun.
But we lose touch with ourselves.
Adventures are put on the back-burner,
And fairy tales only exist when we listen to our ipods at night.

Robert Frost says that nothing gold can stay.
But I refuse to let my life end up that way.

To whom it may concern,

Well, it is raining cats and dogs and I still don't have an umbrella. It's one of those items you know that you'll need eventually, but there's no rush to buy one until you actually need one. Well, I really need one today. The thunderstorm prevented me from doing laundry, so I won't have a few items for Rome tomorrow, which is annoying. However, what is really horrible about today is that I have an exam in an hour, and I have my period, AGAIN! I really need to get on the pill already, I've had my period four times in two months- I don't know how much more irregular one could be. This is not fun. I'm going to try and bring as little as possible to class (less to get wet), and be on my way cramps and all.

Later,
Cat

So, I was sitting in Catalan today.. spacing out until it was my turn to speak. The professor asks me what I want to do with my life. This should have been a simple answer, because everyone else had a simple answer: a teacher. That would have required two words, and I was the last person to respond. The moment would have passed and the class would have lulled on, but of course I always say what I am thinking, and so I did.

Vale, yo siento tonta especialmente porque no estoy estudiando la música, pero toco el piano, y extraño mi piano mucho, y aunque estudio castellano solamente quiero escribir música. Quiero tocar y cantar por todo el día, y yo sé que es más realistico ser una maestra, pero estoy enamorada con la música, y no quiero hacer nada más...

Pero, tienes un teclado aquí en Barcelona?

No, cuestan mucho, en vez de un teclado, tengo una guitarra.

Tocas igual?

No, pero es suficiente por ahora, me permite a escribir y grabar...

Qué bueno! Debería ir al Conservatori cerca de la parada Girona porque quizás pueda tocar el piano allí...

Anyway, I'm going to check it out.. but if not I can't wait until winter break. I am going to play until my fingers hurt. Overall I feel like my life is changing course, and I am a bit enlightened..

But this sure complicates things.

I don't understand you.
I'm staring at you now and it breaks my heart.

What is it that you want?
You are staring back at me with that blank stare; it pisses me off.

A person can't be blank all the time.
If you remain open long enough, people come along and alter what they can,
They inject their beliefs via tatoo. mysticism abounds.

And when the gates open,
You will drown.

And when you drown,
he will suffocate.

Stop looking at me like that.
How you love your precious guilt.

Red eyes, and tired limbs.
You will have to give in eventually.

And then I'll see you there.
I give it an hour, and an hour is wishful thinking.

In 30 seconds you will feel cold.
This is normal.

In 60 seconds you won't feel anything.
Darkness, calmness, and silence help paralyze you.

Then in about 2 hours, maybe 3 you will feel sensation,
That's because the storm clouds are forming.

You feel the sharp, bitter sting of truth?
You are in the one place it is inescapable.

You can't hide from your own mind once you are unconscious.
The veil is removed and mysticism abounds.

I'm stoked!
Thanks Mom!
<333

A spoonful of lentils,
and a forkful of peanut butter.

She's dead to the world.

Drops of saline,
Mixed with black mascara,
Topping broken frames,
And scratched arms-
Both B positive.
Enduring
Slaps as cold as a bucket of snow,
Sharper than ice;
Acrid like aspirin.
Fingernails on chalkboard.
Eyes filled with scorn,
Crying for help,
Nowhere to turn.

Are you sorry?

Two halves make a whole;
There were rips in my soul,
And now I have a supplement of apologies.
I should have taken all the pain.
Younger and stronger.
I should have taken it for you.
I should have been there.
And for this,
as well as my words,

I am sorry.

I can't do this anymore.
Boredom is a dangerous thing,
I think too much,
over analytical.

I can't do this anymore.
I want to throw my guitar out the fucking window.
I want to rip into my chest and throw my heart out at you.
Would you be happy then?
I want to scrape out all the hate,
But it just keeps spreading,
Devouring me whole.

I can't do this anymore.
I can't feign my own existence.
I am nothing.
I breathe mechanically.

I can't do this anymore.
I have nothing left to give you.
I have nothing left to give anyone.
I have nothing.
And I just can't.

I have been numb for so long,
And now reality is overwhelming.
You are overwhelming.
Life is overwhelming.
I am done.

I want to go home,
but where would that be?
Where would I go?
What would I do?
I am stranded.

What are my options?
You, whoever you are, don't want to know.

I can't do this anymore.

Trois Gymnopédies: Gymnopédie No. 1
I am playing for you in the study.

You tell me that you imagine me at Carnegie Hall.
Someday I tell you, someday. But dreams fade and reality sinks in.

You teach me Misirlou. You aren't completely blind yet, but you are close.
Amazed, I watch your fingers, and they have a memory of their own.
You sing, but I don't understand Greek. You tell me it's a song about a beautiful woman, and I am intrigued.

You teach me. It takes me a long time to get the left hand, but I get it.
I play it on the organ at church, playing such a powerful instrument is enthralling.

I become shy when I realize there are people watching and listening. Nick plays me a piece, but I can't remember which one. I go downstairs and meet you for coffee. You look so beautiful in your red suit, the one we buried you in.

I see you every day. You are like a filter over my eyes. I know you would have never wanted to haunt me like this, but you do. I can't get the image out of my mind. Do you know when we dream of you? Can you see me crying all the time? Do I disappoint you?

I'm holding you in the hospital chair before you are readmitted. I keep telling you that it's just a cold, that you're making too big a deal out of it. Stop talking crazy, you're not that sick. I am holding your back to my chest, and wrapping my arms around your chest. I am holding my lips to your neck and whispering that I can't go on without you. And then back to the hospital room. One moment and it was over. Then it's like one of those dreams that you have when you are drunk, and sobering up.. everything is spinning and hazy.

And no wonder I can't ever sleep.